Just Like Papa
by Tahru
Summary: Maybe Francis' little boy Matthew...isn't so little anymore.  FrAnada


It was the morning, the sleeping Canadian was just stirring in his bed as he groaned lightly, having a small bear pounce on his head. The blonde huffed lightly, "Jumakiro..." he complained lightly, wiggling a bit as he turned around to his back, grabbing the small cub and pouting a little, "I'm tired." he said softly, earning a light swat from the bear,

"I'm Kumajiro...and hungry." he added simply, making the blonde sigh a little. Of course the bear would definately know who he was when it came to eating. Matthew was never on the other's mind unless his stomach said otherwise, what a stupid bear. Sighing lightly, he got up in his night shirt and boxers, putting the animal down to streatch. He pulled his hair back in a messy ponytail, rubbing his face before glancing into the mirror.

"Oh my.." he mumbled softly, "...my hair really grew...I guess I can't skip a day shaving huh..." he mumbled to himself. Well, he was going to go to the bathroom to do just that, before the bear nudged him to the kitchen,

"No shaving-COOK!" He demanded childishly. The blonde decided to cook, as the other ordered, and slipped on his glasses. Not like anyone was going to see him and his fuzzy face today anyway. Shaking his head he shuffled into the kitchen, begining to cook some pancakes for today's meal. It was his favourite, and myabe he deserved a little treat? He hummed a little tune and swayed his hips lightly to it, a habbit he picked up from Papa France for sure. But that's what happens when a person spends too much time with one person. And from the looks of it, Canada spent _alot_ of time with France...he looked way too much like him today. Though as he was in his happy place, it came crashing down as he heard the door barge open and people just coming in. He was about to ask, before hearing Brother America yelp, fall, and blame the bear. How typical. He wiped his hands on his apron before going out to the livingroom, "Oh, Bonjour Papa," he greeted with a smile, "Good morninig Alfred, Daddy." he said quietly, but fidgeted for a bit. For the first time he could remember, all eyes where on him. Everyone stared at Canada...it actually made him quite uneasy, "...w-what?" he choked out.

"DUDE!" Alfred shreiked, pointing quite rudely at Matthew, "There's a fuckin' carpet on your face!" he yelped. See, Arthur would have scolded Alfred for being so impolite but...it was TRUE! Matthew shifted a little, whimpering,

"...I didn't have a chance to shave today..." he whispered quietly, looking at a gaping France.

"Mon dieu...that is what you look like after one day?" he asked, slowly before breaking out into a grin. Matthew yelped lightly as he was hugged tightly, "Ah~ Mattheiu! C'est mon garcon!" he cheered brightly, nuzzling him, "You make me proud~" Matthew giggled awkwardly, burning red. Arthur huffed, frowning,

"You're proud that Micheal's a bloody yetti?" he asked flattly, scowling out. Alfred couldn't help but walk up and start petting Matthew's face like a child trying to figure out if it was really Santa Clause. This caused his brother to wiggle a little,

"Please stop...I'll shave.." he offered to Alfred, before Francis lifted his chin with a finger, smling as he leaned in. Matthew couldn't possibly get any more read without spontaniously combusting, "P-Papa..." he squeaked out.

"I like it, mon cher~" The frenchman purred lightly, gently caressing the other's lips with his own, causing the boy to yelp. At the same time, Arthur hit Francis' head and Alfred hit Matthew's. The blonde yelped, rubbing the back of his head, a few stray tears leaking out. "Why did you hit him, Alfred?" France asked flattly, though Arthur had to snicker...

"...because Mitchell is stupid." he responded strongly, grinning happily. Arthur rolled his eyes,

"Alfred. Just because you're an adult doesn't mean that you're out of my parental grip." he threatened, not even noticing France take Matthew away to the bedroom. Alfred huffed,

"Yes mummy." he teased, sticking out his tounge childishly before earning a slap to the head himself.

But as France forced his former child into the bedroom, he decided to do what the two Frenchies did best, and that was kiss. He held the small boy close, kissing feverishly and passionately. Matthew really couldn't wrap his head around the idea, really. Francis was completely turned on...because he didn't shave today? Maybe it was one of those French things he didn't quite understand. But he wasn't going to complain. It felt so good when the elder touched him like that. He let out a soft mewl as his shirt was discarded, a tounge trailing down his chest and to his pants. He gasped lightly, pants coming off...before Francis yelped too.

Both England and America stopped their bickering immediately as they heard the Frenchman scream,

"MON DIEU! You're so bushy Matthieu!"

Please don't ask. I find it hot if Mattie had a beard XDDD;;;;;

Written as an angry fic to xxichigocrush because she promised me it and then DIDN'T DELIVER (IE she had to sleep)


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